Kites
by mykindofparty
Summary: She remembers how it all began, one day in the park. She remembers how the cool autumn air felt against her cheeks. She remembers it as if it were yesterday.


**Kites**  
><strong>By:<strong> mykindofparty  
><strong>AN: **Just a little something floating through my mind. Set between seasons one and two.

She remembers how it all began, one day in the park. She remembers how the cool autumn air felt against her cheeks. She remembers how the sunlight danced across the pond, how the noises of man and nature alike echoed in the trees. She remembers it as if it were yesterday.

But instead it's ten years from that fateful day and she comes back bearing a gift.

It's a kite that she crafted on her own. It's nothing too intricate; all she needed was a little string, two dowel rods and some material to cover the frame and make a tail. That day ten years ago she also had a kite – a bubblegum pink Barbie kite. Well, try as she might, she couldn't find another one like it, so she made her own instead.

She likes kites.

Kites are kind of her favorite.

Her cat, although he was present the very first time she flew a kite, chose not to make the journey again. Honestly, she didn't blame him. He'd grown too heavy for her to carry long distances. He was just a kitten back then, but in a way, she was too. Well, a kid.

She's sixteen in human years and she's certain that if any of her classmates were to see her flying a kite, it would only give them more reason to tease her. More reason to call her names like _stupid_ and _dumb_ and cruelest of all, _retarded_.

She finds a meadow slightly off the beaten path. She thinks this is the right place. It has to be. There's a Barbie blanket and a Barbie lunchbox in her Barbie backpack which she ceremoniously removes and sets on the ground. The blanket's a bit tattered from old age, but she doesn't mind. The lunchbox is filled with of grapes, crackers, and a juice box.

Her kite, which has been trying to fly away on its own, flutters as a gust of wind passes. It's safe, though; she knows all about keeping an eye on things so they don't get lost. It's why her mom stopped buying her jewelry after that cricket kept stealing from her. Some lessons have to be learned the hard way, she discovered.

She checks her Barbie watch – the wristband bites into her skin, but she doesn't mind that it's too small. It's tradition. And it's still a little early to be flying kites.

She likes the way kites soar through the air, the way the tiniest breeze can lift her kite as high as her string will allow. If not for the string, her kite could fly to heaven.

She checks her watch again – she's almost ready to fly. Perhaps a little snack will help pass the time, so she digs into the grapes. They're delicious and every bit as part of the memory as her kite is.

Ten years, she thinks. Ten years to the day she flew her first kite after her first day of first grade. Her mom had taken her there as a reward for being on her best behavior in class. It was also the very first day she got her new kitty, ten years ago.

And ten years to the day that she –

Wait! There it is. She spots it looming over the hill. She stands on her tiptoes, straining to get a better view. A yellow kite.

She grabs her pink kite and throws it into the wind, careful to keep one hand on the string. It doesn't take. She throws it again and this time it hovers close to the ground before taking off into the sky. Success!

She dashes through the field, taking her kite to new heights with a tug of the string and a flick of the wrist.

The hill, she notices, seems much less intimidating than it did ten years ago, but she doesn't have time to think about that. There's someone else flying a kite just on the other side.

A strong gust knocks her kite down several yards. She frowns momentarily, but soon rejoices when the yellow kite draws nearer.

And then all of a sudden the kites are too close – and she knows what will happen before it happens. As if in slow motion, the kites meet, tails tangle around each other and strings become irreversibly entwined.

The kites crash to the ground and she realizes something. Something she should have known all along. These kites belong together. It would only take a few snips from a pair of scissors to save these kites from each other. But that's not what she wants at all. These kites crossed paths for a reason, much like her and –

The owner of the yellow kite laughs. It's not the cruel laughter that she's used to hearing from her peers.

"Brittany," says a familiar voice.

Brittany looks up. She'd been too preoccupied with the complexities of kite strings to notice the owner of the yellow kite.

"Santana," she grins.

"Of course, silly. You're the one who insisted we recreate the first time we met," Santana replies with a wink. "And since that's taken care of, how about we grab a snack?"

"I brought my lunchbox. There are crackers and grapes – well, I ate most of the grapes – and juice," Brittany says, embracing the smaller girl in a warm hug that sends a tingle down her spine.

"Capri Sun?" Santana asks eagerly – so unlike School Santana. School Santana wouldn't be caught dead drinking Capri Sun.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, Britt-Britt, let's go have ourselves a feast," Santana says as she grabs her own book bag. It's gaudy and has cartoon animals all over it, but it's the same one she had when she met Brittany.

Santana offers Brittany her pinky finger, which the taller girl gladly accepts. It's a sign of friendship, but they both yearn for more. Brittany knows it, but she doesn't think Santana's quite figured that out just yet.

"Couldn't convince Lord Tubbington to come?"

Brittany grins. "He's studying for the SATs."


End file.
